


Leaving the Past Behind

by myxstorie



Category: Japanese Actor RPF, Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band), Kanjani8 (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-23
Updated: 2010-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 00:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2003685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myxstorie/pseuds/myxstorie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Alex, I hope it brings a smile ♥</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leaving the Past Behind

-

Today, Ueda thinks to himself, sucked. It _more_ than sucked, anything and everything that could possibly go wrong, did, and anyone and everyone who could piss him off, managed it exponentially.

Several juniors snickering at the strange mix of gel, ink and cake batter that is solidifying in his hair is the last straw, and Ueda's hands curl into tight fists, face like thunder as one of them slams into the wall. It hurts, but the pain soothes him, almost like a sadistic kind of security blanket.

"It's not the wall's fault you've got a foul temper," a voice drawls, and Ueda's stomach plummets.

"What do you want, Nishikido?" He grinds out through clenched teeth, praying Ryo didn't stick around because he's not sure he can keep his fists to himself for long, and it was usually frowned upon to punch your co-workers in the face, especially at work.

"Just wondering what your problem is."

Ueda's never _really_ in the mood to deal with Ryo and his difficult temperament, but right now his patience is practically non-existant.

"Fuck off, will you. Please," he adds as an afterthought, and Ryo laughs, that irritating, self-satisfied, your-pain-is-there-for-my-amusement laugh that makes Ueda's blood boil.

Sadly, either Ryo can't take a hint, or just doesn't care, because the next thing Ueda knows, there's a hand curling around his wrist and Ryo is pulling him out of the building and forcing him into his car. He thinks about protesting and fighting his way free - it probably wouldn't take much - but something about the look in Ryo's eyes, something softer than the usual amused malice, something almost like _concern_ has him buckling himself in without argument.

Ryo doesn't talk during the drive, and Ueda's infinitely grateful. The songs playing on the radio help him to forget about all the mishaps of the day, and the quiet purr of the engine, the brush of the steering wheel under Ryo's palms, the warm softness of the seat behind him lulls him into a state of calm.

A part of him feels strange, feeling so at ease with someone like Ryo driving him - someone he's sure would easily drive them off the edge of a cliff if Ueda pushed him hard enough - but if he's being honest, he doesn't much care for that part of his mind right now. Ryo's car is beautiful, the varnished wood panelling smooth and cool under his touch, then there's the the rising and falling hum as Ryo shifts gears and the clean, heavy scent of leather as Ueda turns his head into the plush, cushioned seat.

They pass buildings and places Ueda half-recognises and keep on going, but Ueda can't find it in himself to care where Ryo is headed, not when he's slowly being filled with the kind of peacefulness he normally only feels after a particularly good bottle of wine or session in the gym. Ryo drives and drives until stone and concrete turn to grass and red skies, the landscape marred only by a short burst of life every now and then, a few houses and shops which are gone before he really notices them.

It's only when Ueda's eyelids are beginning to droop that he hears it; the quiet, melodic sound of Ryo humming a tune, half-singing along to the radio under his breath. A few hours ago, it would have grated on Ueda's nerves like chalk on a blackboard, but now, one corner of his mouth curves upwards and he gives up the battle with sleep.

He's awoken by a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him, and words too brash for the soft tone they're being spoken in.

"Get up, Nancy boy, I won't have you drooling on my seats like some untrained dog."

Blinking blearily, Ueda shoves Ryo away before he can even really see him, and rubs his eyes, voice rough with sleep as he replies, ever eloquent, "Fuck off."

Ryo just laughs at him, again, but this time it isn't quite as annoying as before, doesn't make him want to turn Ryo's jaw purple. Must be because he's still sleepy.

Ryo gets out of the car, slamming the door behind him, and the noise jars Ueda's sluggish senses into action. Drawing a hand over his face as he climbs out, he pulls it away to see the sky turning a deep purple, dark sand and darker water glittering before them as far as the eye can see.

He's torn away from the view by a cough, and Ryo's come around to his side, holding a carrier bag in one hand and brandishing a bento towards him in the other.

"Eat it, or you'll be paying me back for the money I wasted."

Hiding his smile behind his hair, Ueda nods his thanks and tucks in, grateful for food after eight hours with nothing but stress-induced-adrenaline to keep him going.

They don't talk as they eat, nor as they flop back against the sand with their hands against their stomachs, and it's only when Ryo's sitting up to brush sand out of his hair that Ueda remembers the mess in his own, remembers why he was in such a black mood in the first place. He wonders to himself when Ryo changed, when he suddenly became a decent, caring person, when he made the shift from acid-tongued rival to slightly awkward maybe-friend, but the more he thinks about it, the more he realises it isn't Ryo that's changed at all.

And now, as he looks out over the ocean, the horizon practically invisible as the stars and water dance and twinkle as one, Ueda thinks he might finally be willing to put the past behind them.


End file.
